


Turmoil

by malum_animi



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Community: hobbit_kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 20:09:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malum_animi/pseuds/malum_animi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While imprisoned in Mirkwood, Thorin and Company get caught up in a rebellion to overthrow Thranduil and kill his young son Legolas. When Thranduil is seriously injured protecting Legolas, Thorin realizes that his pride and hatred will lead nowhere but pain and suffering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turmoil

**Author's Note:**

> A hobbit-kink prompt.

The first Thorin heard was the clash of swords and the sounds of screaming in Sindarin coming from the stairs that led from his cell up into the main palace. He was in a completely separate prison from the rest of the company, one that led up into the Throne room. At first he thought perhaps their Hobbit had found a way to free the others, and that they were fighting with the palace guards. But no, there was a distinct lack of Dwarvish curses and Khuzdul battle cries. Someone or something else was attacking the elvish kingdom, or had Thranduil lost control over his elves like he’d lost control over his forest?

He tugged on the shackle that chained him to the wall—and curse Thranduil to the deepest pits of Moria—when the door to the palace was flung open, light filling the small dungeon and blinding Thorin. But he could hear the sounds of someone slamming the door closed and stumbling down the stairs. He blinked his eyes open and stared in shock as Thranduil stumbled down the hallway, blood dripping down his face and staining his robes, cradling a small, crying elfling in one arm and his sword in his other.

Thorin’s shock turned to horror as he saw the door open behind Thranduil, another elf standing at the top of the stairs, drawing an arrow back. “Behind you!” he called out. Not even Thranduil deserved to be killed like that, an arrow to the back by one of his own.

Thranduil turned in time to for the arrow to imbed in his shoulder instead of his neck, but the shock of it sent him to the ground, and gave the elf at the door—joined by three others—time to catch up. Thranduil shoved the elfling down the hall, hissing something in Sindarin, and reached for his sword only to have a booted foot stomp down on it—Thorin could hear the bones snap even from where he was—and another kicked him viciously in the stomach. The way Thranduil curled up made Thorin wonder what other wounds the Elvenking’s bloodied robes were hiding.

Two of the elves snatched up the crying elfling, making Thranduil struggle harder against his captor. The elf knelt and gripped Thranduil by the hair and buried a dagger in his gut before standing up and flinging him against the wall. He spat at the king and muttered something in Sindarin. Delivering one last kick, the elf turned to his companions, motioning for them to follow him. The child they carried kicked and screamed and cried, reaching for Thranduil’s too still body as they passed him and Thorin only caught one words between the babe’s sobs.

“Ada…Ada… _Ada!”_

 

Once the elves were gone Thorin stepped as close to the bars as he could get “Thranduil?” he called. He might not like the elf, but Thorin wouldn’t leave him to die in his own dungeon. “Thranduil!” he barked when the elf didn’t move.

Finally he groaned and shifted, opening an eye to glare at Thorin “Can I not die in peace dwarf?” he croaked, bringing a hand up to the dagger still buried in his stomach.

Thorin glared back “No, you may not. What is going on Thranduil?”

Thranduil pulled himself up and staggered over to Thorin’s cell, leaning against the bars. “Not all my subjects agree with my rule. The fact that I imprisoned you and did not kill you on sight was my last offense in their eyes.” He shuddered in pain and reached into his robes, pulling out a key ring. He tossed them into Thorin’s cell and slid back down to the floor “Here. Free yourself and your company…get out of Mirkwood quickly and quietly.

Thorin swiftly freed himself and knelt at Thranduil’s side “And your son? Are you going to leave him then?”

“My son…my Legolas…” he reached up and yanked at Thorin’s hair “I am bleeding to death Thorin, what would you have me do?”

Thorin growled but didn’t answer, instead he pulled the dagger from Thranduil’s stomach and stripped the elf of his bloodstained robe, ripping it up and using it to bind the wound. “Where else?”

“…my leg.”

Thorin quickly unlaced Thranduil’s trousers, exposing the jagged cut that barely missed the main artery in his leg. Binding it tightly he pulled the ruined trousers back up and looked up at Thranduil. “It will do until they can be stitched, I—“

“Thorin?”

Thorin flinched and looked around, seeing nothing. “Bilbo? Remove your confounded ring! I need your help.”

Bilbo appeared beside him, looking haggard and worried. “What can I do?”

Thorin stood and scooped Thranduil up carefully, taking him into the cell and laying him down on the stone bed. “Stay here with him. I’ll free the others and come back for you both.”

He turned to leave, but was stopped by a shaking hand on his. “Thorin. Why are you doing this? I was under the assumption you do not care for me.”

Thorin grimaced “I don’t. But children are precious and no honorable dwarf will stand by and let one be harmed.”

Without waiting for a reply, Thorin turned and took up Thranduil’s sword and hoped that Bilbo’s description of the palace would be enough to let him find his company.

 

 

Bilbo sat on the hard stone floor across from where Thranduil lay, trying not to seem obvious in the fact he was staring at the elf. He had grown up hearing about the great race of Elves, and a few of those stories even included the great king of the greenwood. Those stories had included death, but his mother always twisted them into glorious tales of men sacrificing themselves for their homes or loves. Of course Bilbo knew better now, knew that death and war wasn’t always glorious, but seeing Thranduil like this, pale, bleeding and still, it was wrong, and Bilbo couldn’t help but stare.

“Halfling,” Thranduil rasped “If you wish to say something, say it.”

“Why…why are those elves doing this?”

Thranduil sighed “They are some of the last remaining Elves that fled Doriath. I do not expect you know of the great city.”

“I do,” Bilbo said, and Thranduil looked at him in surprise “My mother was always fond of Elves and told me every story she knew.”

“They are very…regal elves, one’s who believe that royal blood should not be tainted.” He grimaced and shifted on the stone slab “Legolas’ mother was a commoner, but I loved her anyway. They were undoubtedly pleased when she died in childbirth.”

Bilbo gasped, he had seen the elves come from the dungeon, had seen the wildly struggling child in their arms. Bilbo didn’t know elves were capable of such cruelty.

“They were quite vocal about my treaty with Erebor, I’m sure you can understand why. The fact that I imprisoned Thorin and did not kill all of them on sight was…the…last offence.” The last was spoken around clenched teeth as a wave of pain overwhelmed him.

Bilbo got to his feet and approached Thranduil warily “Is there….is there anything I can do?”

Thranduil glared up at him “Unless you can mend bones and replenish blood then no.” he glare softened some and he sighed “Thank you though…for offering.”

Bilbo managed a small smile and returned to his corner, watching Thranduil until the king finally succumbed to the pain of his wounds and passed out.

 

 

 

It didn’t take Thorin long to find the main dungeon. He had to skirt the edges of the palace in order not to be seen by Thranduil’s soldiers or the rebel elves. Although with the amount of fight the two were doing, Thorin doubted they would have noticed if he had simply walked straight through them.

He found his nephews first, surprisingly in the same cell, and unlocked them quickly—taking note that they had not been shackled like he had, much to his relief—and ushering them out of the cell. They seemed to already know what was going on, as Fili explained “They came down to see how many of us there were. When they realized we were the only ones here they seemed happy. They’re planning on sealing the dungeons off once they have control over the palace and leave us to starve to death.” Fili frowned “Is Thranduil truly dead?”

“No.” Thorin sighed “He is seriously injured though.”

“And we’re going to help him?” Kili asked.

“They took his son from him. We will help him get Legolas back, but Thranduil will have to deal with these traitors on his own.” Thorin knew he didn’t even have to help that much, but he’d seen the child being forced from Thranduil, and no matter Thorin’s hatred for the elf, he would not lay blame on an innocent child. “Now be quiet, we don’t want to alert the elves.”

They found the rest of the company easy enough, and despite a few grumbles, none of them protested once Thorin explained what was going on. Getting back to Bilbo and Thranduil was a challenge. One dwarf sneaking through the halls was one thing, but a group of thirteen was another matter entirely. A trip that took Thorin barely an hour took nearly three with all of them. Sneaking past the elves one by one, trying to be as quiet as possible—a feat for dwarves like Dwalin, and no one was surprised that Nori moved almost silently—as they moved through the palace.

“Bilbo?” Thorin called as they descended into the prison, managing to contain his flinch this time when Bilbo appeared in front of him.

“Oh good you’re back.” He glanced back at the cell “He passed out not long after you left. He’s bleeding pretty badly.”

“We’ll have to deal with that later. We must get out of here before they seal off any exits.” Thorin strode forward and picked Thranduil back up, careful not to jostle his broken arm too much. “Bilbo, did you find any exits near here?”

Bilbo nodded “It leads out into the forest, and not a very good part of it either if what I saw was anything to go by.”

Thorin nodded “It will have to do for now.” 


End file.
